Green
by Hover
Summary: He had green eyes. Will they ever return, or will they stay dead forever? HP/DM, HG/SS, RW/LL.
1. Appearance at Hogwarts

Green.

For eighteen years, the entire Wizarding world was held in raptures for a green-eyed boy. Surely a set of viridian eyes such as these had never before been seen, eyes with deep grassy depths, eyes that looked as though they had seen the world and knew of its secrets. It was as if someone chipped identical stunning emerald disks from the most expensive, luxurious rock known to man and carefully laid them in an infant Harry Potter's delicate, untried eyes.

But those eyes had disappeared along with their owner after the destruction of Lord Voldemort. At the final duel, one was wiped from the earth forever more, and the other had vanished in a mist as shining and as green as his eyes. The masses, convinced that this was some bizarre form of Avada Kadavera, mourned the loss of a great and heroic man and went on with their lives. However, some were far more loyal than these mindless folk, and with them Harry would stay forever more.

Still others weren't convinced. The lack of a material body had produced scruples which couldn't be dissipated. It was far too like Sirius' death for their liking. This loyal group included Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, and a few others, mainly located in Hogwarts.

Even more mysterious was the sudden appearance of a new man on the steps of Hogwarts, fifteen years after the final battle. At the first glance, this man appeared to be an albino, with no color in his hair or eyes. However, this was surely untrue, for his skin was tan and possessed a healthy hue. He did not have the telltale sign of perfect, porcelain paleness that marked albinos so readily. His hair contained the faintest wisps of a raven black memory, and his eyes held a faint remembrance of vivid green orbs. For the most part, however, his hair and eyes were completely and utterly white. In his face and body, this was unmistakably the long sought after Harry Potter.

The morning of Harry's arrival found Draco Malfoy in a very bad mood. Unknown to him a certain form was only now stirring out in the Forbidden Forrest, but known to him was the constant ache in his temple that could only be called 'The Worst Headache in the History of Mankind'. Groaning, he massaged the offending bit of his head, but it was all to no avail. Teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts would be pure torture on this day, and Draco couldn't be any more in favor of skipping class altogether and sleeping. Sleeping sounded _good._ The scolding of a certain Headmistress McGonagall sounded anything but good, however, and it was this that Draco used as motivation to get up, get dressed and stalk silently down to breakfast.

The years had treated everyone at Hogwarts quite well. Draco looked just as he did when he had graduated, with the exception of having longer hair now, hair that just barely reached his shoulders. This was the same hair that he maintained so carefully, and the same hair that was carefully mussed and primped into perfection every morning of his life. Today he'd left it to hang free and wild, and the result was just what he'd wanted. Many female eyes had turned his way as he entered the Great Hall. Unsurprisingly, Hermione Granger's weren't one of the pair.

Granger had taken up position as Runes professor immediately after graduating school. Although her job kept her busy, her mind was almost constantly fixed on 'her boys'. Marriage had changed her quite a bit, as Ron often joked. He wasn't her husband, however, and both her men had the chin-length pure black hair that she adored so in the elder. Tobias, her son, had happily inherited Severus' hair, pale complexion and pure black eyes, but looked more like Hermione in feature and habit. He was the same know-it-all, slightly bossy, very smart and barely socially awkward sort of person that Hermione had been when she was in school. He too had a gang of two cronies, only his companions were female, and the threesome went about making all sorts of mischief. This amused Hermione to great ends, for it reminded her so much of the olden times when Ron and Harry had been constantly making Hermione roll her eyes from annoyance and worry. This morning, Harry was fresh in her mind, even as she tucked in neatly to her scrambled eggs and sausage.

The morning of Hogwarts passed normally. For Draco, it passed quite well, aside from the skull-splitting headache which still ailed him. Some pain-killing potions had failed to help him at all, and he was beginning to think of going back to bed when a screech emanated from the back of the room.

"Professor Malfoy! Professor Malfoy, sir? My..finger's…kinda gone.."

Draco sighed and stood up. This anomaly was a frequent one for this particular class. It was unfortunate that Harriet had showed any inclination for magic at all, for surely she would someday begin hurting those around her. Draco silently vowed to be happily retired by the time the young lass began learning to apporate. He didn't want to have to clean up those particular messes at all. Luckily his headache kept him from being able to be too angry, and he merely replied with a simple: "Miss Weasley, I dare say you get more and more like your father each and every day. We'll need to track it down..Tobias, why in the world are you laughing?"

It stunned Draco that Snape let his son fraternize with Harriet Weasley and their friend, Joanna Longbottom. Tobias was a proud Slytherine, and therefore shouldn't be friends with anyone who proudly bore gold and red scarves in the bitter winter months. Draco had just figured out from Tobias that he had been the cause of this act, and that the finger was located in the Hospital Wing at this very moment. He sent the three off to fix their friend with a roll of his eyes and a steadily worsening throb in his temples when someone slammed through the door. Draco turned to see Colin Creevy panting in his classroom, drawing the attentions of his students away from their work. He sighed. Didn't anyone know how hard it was to get them to pay attention to begin with? "Draco, there's a situation at the Entrance Hall. Headmistress says you're to go there right away."

Draco sighed. "Okay. Class, you're dismissed to go to lunch early. Don't get into any trouble, please." Internally he snorted. Like they wouldn't get into trouble! But he had nothing else for them to do, and wasn't about to leave a classroom full of hormonal and lustful teenagers completely unaccompanied, so decided to make them someone else's problem. Filch had been running low on detentions lately, anyways.The students filed out of the room obediently Draco could swear he could see some of them planning evil things. Rotten kids., leaving the blonde man alone to think over what could possibly be wrong now. With another dramatized sigh, he locked his classroom with a wave of his wand and strode off towards the Entrance Hall.


	2. Traumatized for Life

Thanks to everyone for the reviews/adding-to-alert-nesses. It's wicked awesome.

Oh, and a lil' late for me to remember this, but I don't own any of these characters or the like. Too bad, if I did I'd be extremely rich right now.

Green 2.

It had taken Draco only five minutes to find the source of the problem at Hogwarts. Unlike what Creevy had said, the troublemaker was fast asleep in the oddest of places. Draco could only stop to stare at the man who was sitting propped up against the stone railing, on the steps that led up to the Owlry. It was odd to see Harry Potter clad in the jeans and simple black t-shirt of a Muggle, yet this was the sight that met Draco's eyes. He stood, frozen and transfixed.

Surely Harry Potter hadn't aged a day. The shock of a white mop sitting atop the man's head instead of the familiar black mess was odd to say the least, yet, aside from being somewhat tanner than before, the man had barely changed in the fifteen years he had been absent. That wasn't to say that a close observation wouldn't find any new features; Draco easily saw that Harry looked more..rugged. His features had been chiseled ever so slightly, the arms that were crossed high over his chest were marred from the fights of his youth, and muscles were plainly seen all over him. Draco gulped.

Finally working himself out of his reverie, Draco coughed slightly. He'd have to wake the other man somehow, but would have no help in this task. Just where was everyone? Sighing, Draco knelt down and shook Harry's shoulder. "Potter. Potter, wake up. Wake up _now_. Potter?"

Nothing. Harry didn't so much as bat one of his thick eyelashes. Draco sat back, beguiled and bewildered. Surely this was the oddest thing in the world! Here he was, out in the chill of a Fall day, sitting on the stairs leading up to the Owlry, trying to waken the slumbering hero of the Wizarding world who had chosen the absolutely wrong place and time for a nap. Draco grinned.

"Alright, Potter, don't want to play nice? Fine. _Aqua flumenta!_" Frigid water streamed from the tip of Draco's wand, bringing a sputtering Harry to his feet and a fist swinging at Draco's fine face. Draco dodged it. Barely. "Potter! Watch it! D'you want to get me killed?"

Harry narrowed pale orbs at Draco. Draco gulped again. Harry didn't seem like Harry, especially not without those pure wondrous green eyes that had always seemed to emit bravery and mischief. It was sort of spooky. Aside from this, the fact that Harry remained completely mute was odd, and the fact that Harry didn't seem to recognize Draco was stranger yet.

Draco rolled his eyes. He'd need help with this. There was no way he was going to handle Potter on his own. Especially if he was still that horrid hero he'd been in their youth. Draco pointed at Harry and said "You- follow me. Okay? Good boy.." Again, Draco nearly burst out laughing at this entire situation. With the esteemed Potter-boy following him like a tame puppy, Draco set off back towards the castle.

New problems arose. Apparently Potter had forgotten how to use his feet. This led to stumbling and bumbling about as they reached the Entrance Hall, and Draco began wondering how in the world this creature had managed to clamber up what he had of the steep steps he'd been sleeping on. As Harry stumbled again, he grabbed onto Draco's arm for support, nearly taking the Slytherin down with him. Draco sighed. '_Insufferable brat.'_ This was not meant in a cute way.

It wasn't too long before the unlikely duo met with some of the Hogwarts staff. This was inevitable, for one could barely throw a rock at Hogwarts without hitting a professor or head of house, but the two that Harry and Draco ran into were obviously surprising to Harry. While he hadn't looked all that impressed with seeing Draco, the somewhat less frizzy hair that met his gaze was obviously very familiar. What surprised Harry was the tall, dark and sort of handsome man the frizzy hair's owner was currently kissing passionately. Draco, used to such public displays of affection from the two, merely cleared his throat loudly, but Harry uttered the first noise Draco had heard from him in over a decade. "Ewww.. I think I'm traumatized for life," he said, and his voice sounded raw and unused, lending it a certain unexpected gravel quality. Draco resisted the urge to gulp. Again. He'd really have to get over this whole gulping thing. It was quite unbecoming, if you asked him.

It was an understatement to say that Harry had been unexpected for two pairs of rather angry and extremely intelligent eyes to be glaring at him most furiously, but only the onyx black set remained somewhat angered as his wife realized who the offender was. "Harry?!"


	3. An Apple a Day

Again, thank you for the kind reviews. I'll try to get this up as soon as possible, though what with school and all it might be hard to write anything on the week days. As for the underlined chapter two..I didn't realize it was that way. Thank you for telling me, LuckyAngel!

Green 3

The next few minutes would never be returned to Draco, and he reflected upon this fact as he continued on in his trek towards the hospital wing, now with a larger posse in tow. Hermione was now pestering a completely despondent Harry while dragging an equally despondent Severus along by the hand. Hermione was quite unaware of the fact that she was making all the men in the immediate area rather unhappy. She was even unaware of the fact that all of her interrogation of Harry fell on deaf ears. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose with irritation clear in his manner, his head still ached horribly.

Luckily, the hospital wing soon came into view, and Draco led the way inside, cutting Hermione short in the middle of her most irritating question yet; "But Harry, have you met anyone interesting? Y'know…_interesting?" Draco snorted. Hermione punched._

_Madame Pompfrey bustled into the hospital wing, interrupting the rather childish dispute now playing out between Draco and Hermione, which was being watched with a vague amount of interest from a certain Professor Snape. There was a stranger in the room, one who wasn't watching the others at all. In fact, Harry only seemed interested in a spoon which was laying on the nearby countertop. As Poppey watched, he tilted the spoon to one side, then to the other. He was watching the reflection of light in the highly reflective metal object. Poppey raised an eyebrow; what an interesting man._

_With a smile, the witch doctor looked at the three familiar faces and the back of the silver-topped head. "Professors and…guest…What might I do for you?" Draco wrinkled his aristocratic brow in confusion, but the 'guest' now turned around at the sound of a new voice. Poppey dropped the tray she had been holding, but only to cross her arms strictly over her chest. "Harry Potter. After a fifteen year streak, I see you're now back in my hospital wing. Honestly! When will these youngsters learn not to get hurt? Well, why are you still standing there? Lay down."_

_Harry did as he was told. Draco had noticed that this was what Harry seemed good for at the moment, doing as he was told. Draco liked Harry this way better. With the annoying Gryffindor in safe hands, Draco now began sneaking from the room. He stopped abruptly as he heard a "Whoa, what's he doing?" from behind him, followed shortly by a strange wail-like noise. He turned back to see all of the eyes in the room fixed on him. Hermione spoke up; "Draco, I don't think he wants you to leave."_

_Draco sighed. "Perfect."_


	4. A Day in the Life

Green 4

Perhaps Draco Malfoy was being slightly melodramatic. Of course, he'd been stuck with an entirely mute and oddly mischievous Harry Potter in the hospital wing for the better part of the last week. He couldn't even go about taking house points from Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs. No, he was definitely going into a slow and uncomfortable decline, and Harry was happily unaware of this. No, the savior of the Wizarding world was entirely preoccupied at the moment. Draco swatted the other man's hand away as it attempted once again to tug at one of the platinum locks.

The rest of the castle had been in a flurry of excitement ever since Potter's arrival. Ron had taken over DADA for Draco, as Harry was still maintaining a strict rule which involved Draco's being in the vicinity at all times. Draco didn't know what had inspired the sudden obsession, but obsession it was, and everyone felt bad for him. Ron had been so far as to pat Draco's shoulder with a kind "Bummer, Malfoy," and Severus had taken to joining Draco every evening for a short amount of time, stating that "Too much time spent alone with a Gryffindor would surely spoil any strong good-hearted Slytherine. Those Gryffindors lull poor, innocent victims into a false sense of security by not talking, but didn't Draco see how pear-shaped he'd been looking lately?" Draco was sufficiently pleased with the punch he'd landed on Severus' shoulder.

All this aside, Draco was stuck. And, while Harry had stopped pulling on his hair, he had now taken to making odd faces at Draco from across the room. His eerie eyes never blinked once. Draco shuddered.

"Why, Potter, just why?"

--

Hermione sniffled. She coughed. She sneezed. After a few minutes, Severus sighed and got out of bed, stark naked. The whining Hermione smirked smugly. She stretched luxuriously and watched the slightly opened door until Severus padded back in, now bearing a small vial of pale green potion, which he handed to Hermione. She gulped it down and smiled. Life had gotten so much better after Severus had began flavoring his potions (at least the potions he gave to Hermione, the students' potions rarely received such treatment). Potion downed, Severus clambered back into bed and wrapped his arms about his lady, rolling until the two were comfortably snuggled up. A deep voice broke the companionable silence. "You thought I was going to let you get sick? Try harder, lil' one." Hermione smiled.

--

Ron looked at the faces of the students who were currently staring at him. He edged to the right slightly, and the uncountable eyes followed his movements perfectly, and did the same as Ron took a few steps to the left. It was settled. The second year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were now hunters, and their prey was their new Defense Against the Dark Arts substitute teacher. It wouldn't be long now before they lunged at him, and Ron could see the outcome already. He winced.

Quickly realizing that he'd spent a good five minutes merely staring at the sea of faces which was his audience, Ron spoke up. Draco had left perfect notes on what he wanted covered in his classes that day, and Ron was surprised to see that Draco had desired Ron to teach the second years "Wandless Magic", or at least the legend and alleged history behind such a thing. Ron didn't think it existed. The students agreed with him.

"But, sir, you need a wand to do magic. It chann-"

"Yes, Miss Pembroke, I understand that wands channel one's magic. In theory it's possible to channel magic without a middleman. At least, according to Malfoy it's possible."

_"Professor_ Malfoy, sir."

"Oh, right. Well. Malfoy will be able to tell you more 'bout this when he gets back, ok? So..Read your books. No, Miss Pembroke," Ron cut the ambitious young girl off before she spoke. "I will not be telling you where to read. Just read your textbooks. Thank you."

So Ron had given up, it didnt' matter much, did it? Luckily this would all be Draco's mess, and Ron would let him clean it up later. Ron settled behind Draco's desk, propping his feet up comfortably, and presently fell asleep. If only _he _could be DADA professor, this job was very easy.

A/N: A little short, sorry 'bout that. It's getting late and I still have homework to do. I'll try to keep the chapters comin' quickly. Anywho, enjoy!


	5. Escape

Green 5

Silvery moonlight draped itself across Draco's rooms. A watery speck found its mark on Harry's hair, making it seem like it was aglow brilliantly. Harry was out cold, drooling all over Draco's pristine emerald couch. The owner of the couch sighed he seemed to be doing this a lot recently and rubbed his forehead, already mourning the loss of his drool-free furniture. He easily sacrificed the couch in order to sneak out for some much needed Harry-free time.

Three weeks had now passed, Poppy had forced the two out of the hospital wing, but Harry still seemed to think Draco was a necessity for life. Every time Draco tried to escape..erm.._leave,_ Harry would carry on wailing and moaning until finally Draco came back, and then he would latch upon the proud Malfoy like the world would end the next day. Hopefully Draco could manage to sneak out and go for a nightly stroll around the castle, but return before Harry noticed his absence.

The night was just as wonderful as it had always been to Draco, but at the moment it brought him a special relief. He had meandered up to the Astrology tower, his favorite place in the world, and was currently overlooking the entire Hogwarts grounds. The same moonlight that lit Draco's rooms dappled the grasses and trees. Wispy clouds ringed the full moon. Werewolves would be out in full tonight, yet the blonde knew Hogwarts was safe and sound. However, things still were moving on the grounds. Draco could see the massive form of Hagrid below, hard at work even though it was very near midnight. It looked as though he was burying something. A frown creased Draco's smooth face, and he made a mental note to ask the half giant about it in the morning.

Draco's moment in the open was over. It had been greatly enjoyed, but he needed to go off and do research in the library. There was something wrong with Harry. Draco knew it. The others weren't worried, and continued to blab on and on about 'Post-traumatic stress disorder' or some crap, but Draco knew this wasn't the case. It didn't line up. Some sort of leftover mental problems from the war wouldn't make Harry's eyes and hair turn pure white. No, that wasn't the problem at all.

So Draco clambered down the flights of stairs and traversed through the countless hallways until the giant doors of the library came into view. These were opened with an eerie, ridiculously long squeak and closed with a loud thud behind him.

A/N: I'm very sorry, it's so short! I'm going to go write the next chapter or three right away, so never fear.


	6. Eureka!

Green 6

It had taken Draco until seven o'clock, Harry's approximate wake-up time, to discover the first shred of information. It was found in _'A Sick Guid to Magical Ailments',_ a book which rapidly was becoming Draco's least favorite book in the world. Already the blasted thing had coughed on him several times, when all of the sudden it had sneezed all over him. He was covered in book snot. Ew.

However, the now needed shower was well worth it. According to the book,_ 'When a highly powerful prophecy is finally executed, unforeseen and occasionally deadly events occur. In one instance, Suzanne Bogdone, a man prophesized to be the first to invent clothing, found that every scrap of fabric he tried to put on after his main invention burned when it touched his skin. Unsurprisingly, the roots of the groups of people known as 'Nudists' can be found in Suzanne.' Draco chuckled at this. Suzanne must've wanted to murder his parents. Draco continued to read. 'While Suzanne's ailment wasn't harmful in any way, other people have found fulfilling their fates to be far more painful. Jean Furgeson, a middle-aged witch who was supposed to make it possible for muggle-born witches and wizards to have a place in the Wizarding world, found herself ripped in half when she finally succeeded._

_Other prophecies have been led to more mysterious ends. A certain James Creegen disappeared entirely when he fulfilled his unknown prophecy. He reappeared one hundred years later, but hadn't aged a day. _

_It is impossible to prepare for this ailment. Things like this are impossible to prepare for, as no one knows that they will happen. When dealing with a case like Suzanne Bogdone's, the victim must learn to live with their life. In the case of one like Jean Furgeson, those nearest to the victim must do their best to heal them, but survival isn't assured. For James Creegen-like cases, there is no set way to treat the victim. Creegen wasn't treated at all, and ended up committing suicide. Psychologists advise trying to find out where the person's been. It might not help at all, but let's face it, everyone wants to know.'_

_Draco closed the book with a thud and wiped his face on his sleeve,_ removing good amounts of greenish goo from his skin. It was seven-thirty, Harry would probably be up by now, Draco needed a shower desperately and he also had to find out where the heck that boy had been for the past eighteen years. So Draco lugged the book with him back to his rooms, where silence met him.

Silence wasn't all that hit his senses as he pushed the heavy door open. Harry wasn't there. Harry's absence shook him greatly, and this fact shook him more than Harry's absence. Was he actually getting used to the bugger? Perhaps. Either way, Draco would need to find the silver haired bastard, and soon. After he cleaned up.


	7. Confessions of the Boy Who Lived Again

Green 7

Sure, maybe Draco wasn't the best person in the world. He was perfectly alright with this, mostly because he was squeaky clean and good-smelling. Potter could easily wait, but Draco's cleanliness was a necessity.

So Draco set out around his rooms to find the missing burden of the past month. It didn't take too long, because Draco's rooms were small and Harry seemed to have a dislike of the dungeon hallways, which ruled out any possibility that Harry had left. So when Draco found Harry curled up on his spare pairs of shoes, his arms wound tightly around his knees. He blinked at the sudden bright light streaming through the doorway but didn't move, only stared up at Draco accusatively. After a moment, Draco joined him, wincing as he sat. Shoes weren't comfortable.

Harry neither stirred nor spoke, so instead Draco poked him tentatively on the shoulder. "Har? What're you doing..in the closet..?" The softly spoken words were all that Harry needed, and he threw himself on the other man. Draco found himself pressed firmly into the rough wall of the closet as Harry curled up on his lap and buried his head in the crook of Draco's neck. Silence fell once again.

Draco patted Harry's back awkwardly, and eventually found his voice to speak again. "Potter. You have to tell me where you've been." Harry's muscles tensed against him. "No, no. It's alright. You're safe now. I just need to know where you've been for the past eighteen years. If you do, I'll go get you a cookie!"

Harry pulled back enough to glare at Draco, who didn't let himself stop smiling. Harry wrinkled his nose, but spoke with great reluctance. "I was with him."

"Him?""Yea. Y'know. The short snake dude.""Short snake dude..Oh. Voldemort?" Draco sounded rather shocked and confused, and managed to miss Harry's flinch as he said his dead enemy's name.

"Mhm. It was all white and misty, and my head hurt all the time, and the short snake dude kept.." Harry shuddered and pressed his face against Draco's chest once again. "Oh..He..did he hurt you, Harry?" Harry nodded jerkily. "Well, that's all over now, isn't it? You're here at Hogwarts, and all nice and safe.""He said he'd come back for me.""Wha!? Oh. Well. We just won't let that happen, now will we?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally, and Draco went back to tracing patterns on Harry's back softly.

An hour later, Draco found himself sent out to get milk and cookies. Harry was adamant that no house elf would set a foot in his vicinity, and Draco couldn't find any way to get a house elf near enough to deliver milk and cookies to them without Harry seeing the elf. So Draco was going to go and tickle the pear to raid the kitchens for the much needed pastries and beverages.

Upon his return, he discovered a despondent Harry curled up on the still damp couch. A touch of black in the other man's hair didn't escape Draco's attention. Draco set the plate of cookies and the two large mugs of milk on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch besides Harry.

"So, Harry, did I ever tell you that you talk way too much?" Draco said, and smiled slightly as he received a bruising punch on the shoulder.

_A/N: Remember, reviews are always loved! Drop a line, tell me how I'm doin'._


	8. Snog

Green Eight

A day passed. The chill of fall had steadily grown since Potter's arrival, Draco thought unconcernedly as his feet pounded a thin layer of newly fallen snow into submission under his weight. A lot of snow had laid itself over the grounds, but luckily those young miscreants had already carved Draco's favorite running route out of the powdery material, Draco's current heart-pounding panicked run was uninterrupted by that woeful event.

Harry had kissed him.

_Harry _had _kissed_ him.

That just wasn't right.

It had happened just as Draco returned from teaching a horrid group of Slytherines and Gryffindors. House rivalries were alive and strong, and the hour had resulted in a full out fistfight. Draco would get an enjoyably torturing detention to inflict upon the five young rash fighters in question, but that wasn't to be until Thursday in the earliest, and it was only Monday. Draco had been in an understandably good mood as clambered back through the portrait of Holly-Inwood the Weird and glanced around for his Harry. Or rather, Potter.

Harry had allowed him to go back to work after forcing Draco to promising a large plate of cookies to him. That plate remained on the coffee table, and Potter remained next to it, apparently in a cookie-induced coma. Draco let out an uncharacteristic chortle as he plopped down next to the slumbering man and popped a cookie in his mouth. House elves should be rewarded more often. Those things were damn good!

And then it had happened. All of the sudden, the not-so-asleep Harry had been on Draco, his soft lips pressed against Draco's in a steamy embrace. Harry's hands had entwined through platinum locks, tugging slightly in all the right places. Draco's calloused hand had accidentally landed on a stretch of Harry's bare skin, as his muggle t-shirt had ridden up rather high, and his skin was so soft and hot beneath his extremity that Draco had almost lost himself to..something. It couldn't have been lust.

It was when Harry's knee began slipping seductively up Draco's thigh and when Harry had growled evilly into the kiss when Draco realized just what was happening. A distant part of his brain took a moment to realize just how good it felt and how the sensitive skin of his thighs were tingling unbearably before he had pushed Harry off of him and bolted out the door. Five minutes and a quick transformation of clothes found him outside in sweat clothes trying to pound the ground into a canyon with his feet. He brought a trembling hand up to his face, where he felt lips still swollen and hot from kisses. Draco only had one question: What the heck was going on?

He wasn't gay. He knew he wasn't gay. He couldn't be gay. But if he weren't gay, then how in the world had that felt so right?

It wasn't that there was anything wrong with being gay. Draco just wasn't. He'd bedded many a young, lush witch and grinned charmingly as they ground their young bodies up against his hard front. It had felt good, but hadn't come anything close to what Harry had just done to him. Harry had just completed him. Harry had just taken his mostly lost innocence, and Draco had almost been alright with it. Draco had almost been alight with it too, alight with fire and passion, but had managed to pull himself back just in time. Now Draco was beginning to regret that decision. Who knew what delicious pleasures he could be experiencing at that moment if he had only stayed? What things could Harry do with that mute mouth? Surely it was good for something aside eating…

Draco chortled again. He'd gone from being adamantly sure that he wasn't gay to fantasizing about Potter in a matter of minutes. He was an odd creature, to be sure, but he was certainly alright with this. It was time to get back and apologize profusely, then take a very long and very cold shower. If he was lucky he'd have to settle for a steaming hot shower with a partner, but if his inkling was correct a cold shower it would be indeed.

A/N: This is a repost. Enjoy!


	9. Out of the Closet

Green Nine

It took a good half an hour for Draco to return to his rooms after his run, and when he did get back he was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. His signature blonde locks clung to his head most unbecomingly, but he didn't seem to care.

Instead of heading straight for the shower as he usually would have done, he let his long strides take him to his closet instead, where he knew a certain annoying and overly brave Gryffindor would be hiding. It was pitch black in the closet, but dim light shone in from Draco's bedroom, illuminating Harry just enough for Draco to see him. He was still wearing his muggle clothes, and didn't look up as Draco opened the door, but instead remained perfectly stoic. His only movements were his breathing and his hand playing with something at the base of his throat. Draco hadn't noticed a necklace before, he decided to ask about it later. Instead, Draco clambered into the closet and settled down on top of his numerous pairs of shoes besides Harry. "So there, Po'er, see here. I'm sorry for leaving." Draco couldn't see him, but he felt Harry's forearms moving in an up-and-down motion that must have been a shrug. "No really, I am. It was wrong of me. I got scared and bolted." No reply. "Look, I'm here now, and I'm not leaving. So, go ahead, rape me." And, finally, Draco was slapped sharply upside the head. He felt Harry get up from his spot on the shoes and open the door, which made Draco blink rapidly. The light in the bedroom was brighter than he had first believed, and Harry had come out of the closet far faster than the Malfoy had expected, in both senses of the phrase. It appeared as if Harry Potter were truly gay. How sexy.

Draco followed the proud white-haired man back out into the light and rubbed his sensitive rump. "Wow. I think my boots tried to sodomize me…So, Potter, what now?" Harry glared. Draco winced. Obviously he wasn't forgiven yet.

"Now you shut up. You talk way too much, you ass. I still hate you, you should know that. Now strip."That took Draco by surprise, yet he had to chuckle at Harry's words. He complied easily with the order, slowly peeling his damp clothes from his freshly exercised form, and stood in front of the still clad Harry in all his nude glory.

It took Harry only a moment to size Draco up. It took him only one thought to decide that he had indeed made the correct decision on who to attach himself annoyingly to. Quite honestly, he was thinking that he could easily go for Snape, but finding that the female part of the Golden Trio had snatched him up had to go with his first instinct and Draco Malfoy became his pick. Draco wasn't exactly powerfully built like Harry, but instead he had a tall and wiry form that was lean and made of almost pure muscle. Many a man would kill for Draco's chest, and many a person would kill to have a partner with Draco's chest. Harry nodded approvingly. "Good. Now go shower.""Wouldn't you like to…join me?"

"No."Draco sighed and shook his head tersely, but still followed that darn Potter's instructions. He fancied Harry had specifically enjoyed Draco's march to the bathroom door, which seemed to take forever, for Draco was purposely prolonging the experience. After he had left, Harry plopped down on the bed to wait, but promptly fell asleep instead.

For his part, Draco took a long and frigid shower. He took time to wash every part of himself at least twice, he scrubbed his hair until it glistened even in its sopping state, he even continued his preening long after he'd begun shivering under the cool stream of water. By the time he stepped out of the magicked shower, he was as clean as he'd ever been in his life, but not quite ready to go out and face Harry.

He muttered a spell to dry his hair and quickly brushed out the tangles, leaving it shiny and smelling faintly of cinnamon and musk. He took his time drying himself from head to foot and quickly murmured the spell that served as a Wizard's form of Deodorant, then carefully tugged on gray silk boxers and loose emerald green pants. He momentarily noted that said pants were the exactly the same color Harry's eyes had used to been. It was a little eerie, and brought back memories that Draco should have liked to keep repressed. Harry talking and laughing with Hermione and Ron, his raven black hair starkly contrasting with his porcelain skin and viridian eyes. Those three colors had been what defined Harry: Raven black, creamy milk white, vivid green. And now all of those were reversed. No wonder no one from the press had come to see Harry; the reporters who had seen him from afar simply didn't believe anyone who knew of Harry's return. It was quite nice. That was the last thing Harry and the Hogwarts staff would have liked.

Draco blew all the illuminating candles out in the bathroom and stalked silently down the hall, his head filled with interesting thoughts. The sight of a still fully clad Harry completely conked out on the bed made him merely roll his eyes. Stupid Gryffindors.

A/N: Like it, hate it? Please review it!


	10. Preggers!

Green Ten

Draco had gently pulled the clothing off the slumbering Harry. For him, it had almost been like a silent meditation time. Every time a garment was removed, a plane of ragged skin was exposed to the cool air of Draco's bedroom. It was evident that Harry had seen a war. Was it wrong that Draco loved each of those scars, either pearly raised ridges or the deep puckered memories, with a fierce passion? Each one told a tale of bravery to Draco, each was a woeful reminder, and each was deeply beautiful in a flawed and ugly way.

Five minutes' time found Draco tucking a mostly naked Harry into the silken sheets of his bed and looking behind him one last time as he flicked his wand to blow all the candles out simultaneously. Draco flopped unceremoniously onto the couch, only waiting for a moment while a blanket flew through the apartment at his command. Draco settled down to a night of tossing, turning and contemplation.

The morning found two rather cross men waking far before their usual time. Pounding could be heard at the portrait hole. Draco could hear it clearly from his spot on the couch. Clang, clang, clang, crash, and repeat. It was slowly and surely driving Draco insane, and the pillow he was currently cramming over his head was doing nothing to alleviate the noise. Finally Draco shoved himself to his feet and stumbled blearily over to the portrait to push it open directly in the face of a certain Severus Snape.

Draco stared at Snape for a moment. "Sev'rus! What the-it's three o'clock!" Draco crossed his arms high over his chest and gave the other man his best Malfoy glare.

Severus had the decency to look properly shamed. "She's pregnant," he muttered. Draco's glare turned instantly into a look of shock. "Who's pregnant? Hermione? Hermione Granger is pregnant! And by your spawn!" He guffawed loudly. Snape glared before responding with a "No, Mr. Malfoy, Hermione Granger-_Snape_ is impregnanted by her husband. No spawn was included, thank you very much." Malfoy chuckled appreciatively and shepherded his former professor into his apartment. The two had settled down on the recently slept on couch and began munching on some of Harry's discarded cookies before the conversation picked back up.

"So, if it isn't a spawn," Draco sounded rather skeptical at this, "then what is it?" "A boy."

"And his name shall be?"

"Thadius James Granger-Snape."

"Thadius? Interesting. I'll call him 'Thad'. Thad…Yes, that sounds right." Draco nodded decisively. "So, where is the glowing mother-to-be?"

"Sleeping. She's been doing that a lot lately. It's quite disconcerting."

"Well..She's pregnant. They tend to do that when they're pregnant.""I've noticed.""What's going on?"The two talking Slytherins turned at the sound of a new voice. Harry appeared in the doorway, blearily rubbing at his eyes, and Severus' eyebrows shot up to almost meet his hairline. It was then that Draco noticed how this might look to the elder man: Draco was wearing only his pajama pants, and Harry was wearing even less in his pair of boxer shorts. They were nice boxer shorts, adorned with tiny hearts in all the colors of the rainbow. "Uhm..Harry, Hermione's pregnant.""She had an affair! I'm so sorry, Snape. It's too bad, really. But seriously. You're way too old to be able to procreate. And too..Snape."Snape, who was most affronted at this assumption on Harry's part, stood up and made to leave the room. Draco managed to capture his robe sleeve and hold him back. "Here, Harry, have some cookies." Draco rattled the plate softly to draw Harry's attention, and the man fell on the sweets with soft 'Oohs' and 'Ahhs'. With Harry distracted, Draco turned to Snape to ask one final question."And when is she due?""Five months.""Well, congratulations. I know you will make a good father." Snape pinned Draco with a mistrusting look, which Draco waved off easily. "You will. Trust me. Now go, and find out if your spouse needs any food." Snape nodded and waved vaguely as he left. Draco smiled. Awkward farewells were extremely Snape.

Harry looked up as Snape left, and Draco found his look downright disconcerting. "What?"

Harry's grin was feral. "Guess."

A/N: I appologize profusely for not being able to update more often. For about a month it'll be weekly updates instead of the daily or bi-daily updates I was hoping for, exept weekends. I may be able to get a chapter or two up tomorrow, but we'll see. I hope you enjoyed the last chapter!


	11. The chapter without a name

A/N: Warning! This chapter contains lotsa slash. Please proceed with caution.

Draco scratched his head. Harry's stare was penetrating him, and made him feel like the small lad he used to be. Something was surely up. In an instant, Harry was across the room, his muscular frame pressing Draco firmly into the freshly closed portrait hole. Two sets of lips locked fiercely. Draco only had a moment to prepare himself before Harry picked him up roughly, never letting the kiss break. The trip down the hall never seemed to have taken longer. Finally, Harry tossed Draco onto the silky green sheets. It took him moments to shuck his single article of clothing, but when Draco reached down to tug his own pants and boxers off, he found nothing there. His poor clothes seemed to have disappeared into oblivion.

Harry's voice, a mere grunt at the moment, broke the anticipation-filled silence with a queer word. "Aqua sedo," he murmured, then Draco found himself rolled over with his smooth chest pressed firmly to that familiar green fabric. He was taken by surprise. Firm hands settled themselves on his thighs, prying them apart. Then a firm member was thrust deep inside him, causing Draco to hiss with pain. Harry paused suddenly at the hiss, pulling himself mostly out of the other man, but he seemed to reconsider after a second and resumed his pleasures. The pain lessened after a little while, Draco found, yet he still wasn't completely satisfied. He didn't want to be sexed, he wanted to have sex. Yet Harry continued thrusting, and only after long minutes did he finally go taught and finish with a strangled cry of "Draco!"

He came crashing down upon the pale-skinned lover he'd claimed as his own, and once again Draco found himself wincing in pain. Harry was _heavy_. Now, with his full weight resting solely on Draco, Harry seemed completely happy to rest, or so Draco thought. However, after a good half an hour, Harry rolled off of Draco and let Draco turn over again. Harry seemed to sense something amiss in the other man. Then, he realized. Draco wasn't a woman, who would also receive full satisfaction by his former act. A glance down at Draco's uncared for erection made him realize what he had forgotten.

Harry wasn't so thrilled about letting Draco use him as he'd used Draco. Luckily, there were other ways of taking care of that particular problem. He straddled Draco and leaned down to kiss him, forcing him from a dozing state. Once he had Draco good and awake, he licked and kissed his way down Draco's body, pausing everywhere Draco let out a hiss or a groan of pleasure. He slowed as he neared Draco's loins, then, all at once, enveloped his lover in his warm mouth. This caused Draco to moan loudly. Harry wrapped his hands firmly around the base of Draco's member, and pulled it mostly out of his mouth. He used his tongue playfully to spiral around and around until Draco found himself thrusting shallowly into Harry's mouth.

It wasn't long until Draco finished, and Harry forced himself to swallow all that came rushing out of the thing still held in his mouth. He let go of Draco and flopped onto the bed next to him, falling fast asleep almost instantly. It would take Draco much longer to fall into the cool, healing darkness of sleep. Thoughts still whirled about his head. Yet he had never been one to refuse mistress sleep's orders, and he too fell fast asleep, with one of Harry's heavy arms thrown over his smooth chest.

A/N: Again, I'm very sorry about the wait. I haven't forgotten about this story. Please stick with me.


	12. Baby

The morning dawned bright and early, and Draco awoke with the morn. Harry slept on, his cheek pressed firmly on Draco's chest, a string of drool pooled on cool skin. Draco would need to be sneaky if he wanted to escape while leaving the slumbering savior unaware of his actions. Moving slowly, inch by inch, he managed to relocate Harry's head to a pillow, and clambered out of bed.

Draco had to take a personal stock of himself. It was the same way when he'd first had sex with a girl. He'd needed to make sure his pride and joy 'Mini Drakey' {so named by his mother} was still intact and alive, and that the world hadn't ended. Now he wiggled his hips and felt an unknown soreness, and he could discern a certain salty feeling that burned in his cuts. Did lube have salt? He didn't know. Whatever it was, it felt oh so good.

However, it was time to get rid of that salty feeling, Draco reflected quietly as he slipped into the shower. Warm water drenched his head. Soon, steam fogged up the glass of the mirror and made Draco blink confusedly. It wasn't long until Draco was seduced into a warm water coma, and merely rested against the cool tile drowsily.

It was a subtle thing that alerted him to someone else's presence. A waft of cool air swirled in through the door way, pushing the curtain surrounding the shower in towards Draco's feet. Draco pulled the curtain back to see who had come in, only to find a surprisingly innocent, empty bathroom peering back at him.

No one was there. The door was shut, and showed no signs of being opened recently. Yet the cool air remained, a threatening reminder of the past. But how far past did this reminder bring to the present?

With a shiver he couldn't quite still, Draco turned back to his shower, dousing his hand in shampoo. Suds soon covered him from head to toe. It didn't take long for him to get completely clean, but stepping back out into that too cold air would take him much longer.

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It's been a while since Hermione and Snape made a grand appearance here.

The two newly expecting to-be parents were still in a state of advanced shock. They moved about their lives, barely talking to those outside of the Snape pod. For himself, Severus had begun treating Hermione with a certain reverence that made his wife blush. According to him, Hermione was no longer allowed to carry anything of substantial weight, nor was she allowed to be overly stressed or exercise too strenuously.

Hermione suffered this abuse for a short amount of time with the glow of one who knew her man was truly in love with her.

After a little while, however, she firmly put her foot down on Sev'rus babying her too much. It was "An overly annoying and unbearable treatment that shouldn't be allowed to continue any longer.

Yet she couldn't stop the certain glow that came into Severus' eyes when he looked at her for a long second, nor could she keep father of her child from shooting glares at any other male that looked at her for a second longer than usual.

However, what she didn't want to tell anyone was that she secretly didn't want him to stop. It felt good to be pampered and protected. And, in the darkness of the night when no one else was around, Severus lay his large, time-worn hand on her stomach and looked down his hooked nose with an awed light. He, the Potions Master Extraordinaire, couldn't believe in the basic nature of human reproduction.

However, one problem loomed over the heads of the happy couple. Baby names.

Hermione had done research. What she found destroyed the name 'Thadeus' for them, as there was a dark evil wizard not too long ago who went by the same name. As the original Thadeus was a muggle killer and torturer, Hermione was adament that the name shouldn't stick. And, on top of that, she didn't trust wizard pregnancy tests. While Snape remained adament that it was infact a boy, Hermione felt the need to pick out a girl name, just in case.

"How about 'Jean' for a girl, and 'Caedan' for a boy?", Hermione's voice broke through a contemplative silence.

"'Jean'? Really? No. We will have no Juniors in this family, Hermione. I know your middle name. What about 'Aurora', or 'Tabitha'?"

Hermione tilted her head to the side. "I like them both. If we name her 'Aurora' we could call her 'Auri', and if we call her 'Tabitha' we could call her 'Tabs'."

Snape nodded. "Okay. But what if the little someone happens to be a 'him', as the spell said? Since Thadius is out.."

"Oh."

Another thoughtful silence filled the air.

"How about 'Ciaran'? It means 'little dark one'."

"Oh, Snape, that's perfect!" Hermione threw her arms around Severus' neck.

"That's _Professor_ Snape to you," Snape grumbled darkly.

"Oh, really? Perhaps _Professor_ Snape would like to give a certain naughty girl a detention?" Snape chuckled. Eager lips met their match, and both made strangled noises.

All in all, the Snapes were surviving.

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A/N: Ciaran is pronounced 'Keer-awn'

Like it, hate it? Please review!


	13. The Creeper Returneth?

Professor Snape had indeed given his young wife a detention. It was to take place in the Shrieking Shack, the following evening. The day flew by, with no major disturbances in anyone's life, aside from a major snow storm that dumped a good four feet on the already covered ground. The morning was a crisp, freezing one, and the detention's fulfillment became a cause for worry.

Yet Hermione's insistence of '_I'm a __**witch**__! I think I'm capable of warming myself,'_ had shut down all of Snape's arguments.

That's how the two found themselves trudging through the snow towards the Shrieking Shack with Hermione leaning heavily upon her husband's arm.

In the Shack, the air was tangible with something Hermione just couldn't put her finger on. It grew stronger as Snape took a step closer to her. Then, all of the sudden, he waved his wand. A pop rang through the air, and a quill, ink bottle, and parchment appeared on the ground.

"You will write 'I know I am smart' until the entire parchment is covered."Hermione wrinkled her brow. That made less than no sense. Hermione already knew she was smart. She didn't know what the point of this was. But she complied silently, scribbling franticly on the floor.

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Draco's boots crunched heavily in the snow. He couldn't help but leave the darkness of the dungeons for the freedom of the outdoors.

He'd found his way to the Astronomy Tower, one of his favorite hideouts, and now had faithfully trudged his way around the circumference of the tower three times without having a thought of stopping. An observation forced him to still.

Was that a shadow? It couldn't be. There was no one there to create a shadow, nor was there any break in the strong evening sun of the day. A dark splotch marred the face of a billowy white surface, and no logic could explain its existence. Draco wasn't one for mysteries, but he had to admit that he was interested. He took a hesitant step forward, then another. It was then he heard it.

A whispering, slithering sound. Hissing noises filled Draco's ears, and he knew where he'd heard them before. From Harry. It was parseltongue. Clear memories of a certain Dueling lesson wafted over Draco before realization dawned on him. Harry and Voldemort were the only parseltongues known in his time-one was downstairs in a cookie coma, the other was dead.

Draco bolted.

Unfortunately, the thick tred of his boots did little to keep him from falling in the hallways. He slipped and landed hard on the ground, a thick crack emanated from his neck. With that, Draco fell into a cool, headache-filled faint.

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Harry rolled over, the blanket stuck to his sweaty chest. He grimaced. This was not comfortable, and Draco promised to be back soon. It hadn't been soon, it'd been a really, really long time. In fact, he still wasn't back. And Harry was bored.

Harry hadn't left Draco's rooms for a long time, and didn't have any plans to do so now, even though Draco had apparently disappeared from the face of the earth. So he closed his eyes, scrunched up his face and thought very hard. Ron first came to mind.

'_Ron!'_

Ron was in his own rooms, stuffing his face with food. He sat up abruptly and looked around, expecting Harry to be near. He wondered vaguely how his friend had gotten into his rooms.

'_Ron?'_

"Yeah, mate?"

'_Ron: I don't know if you can hear me, but go find Draco, please.'_

"Uhm…Ok?"

Ron got up and left, leaving a very confused wife looking after him. Ron rarely heard people speaking to him, and he never left in the middle of a meal. Ron stalked the hallways begrudgingly, his fine shoes making soft clicks on the ground.

A/N: Sorry for the cliff hanger, I must go help make dinner. Merry Christmas, everyone!


	14. And Then He Was Gone

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Draco shall be fine in time, or so I think.

It took Ron a very, very long time to find Draco.

He'd been all around the castle by the time he stumbled on the crumpled form on the ground-the kitchens had held no sign of the blonde, neither had the dungeons or the grounds. Yes, Ron had trooped all around the grounds in search of the errant Malfoy. So, upon stumbling on Draco in a third floor hallway, the Weasley was not pleased.

However, he'd handled it all quite well. A simple charm had levitated the limp form from the hallway to the Hospital wing. He'd dashed down to Draco's rooms to tell Harry where Draco was at, patted his friend on the back once or twice for good measure, and then returned to his own rooms to a loving, open wife and {more importantly} a good, blissfully still-warm meal.

Harry had ran for the Hospital wing to find out just what was going on. Upon his entrance there, a bustling Madame Pompfrey shoved him into a chair, and continued on her original course.

Harry had never been one to be pushed into anything. As soon as Madame Pompfrey was out of sight, he got up to search Draco out for himself. The Hospital wing was unusually empty. It didn't take him long at all to locate the blonde in a solitary bed at the far edge of the room.

Draco didn't look so good at all. He was paler than usual, with dark circles under his eyes and shallow, uneven breathing.

And then Madame Pompfrey was back-and giving Harry the evilest glare he'd faced all his Voldemort-facing life. She didn't make him leave, though. She only tipped a violent looking lime green potion down Draco's throat, then left the two alone once again.

That began the new routine of three lives. Draco would remain in his coma, Madame Pompfrey would come in every few hours to force a random potion into Draco, then she would wrinkle her brow and purse her lips as Draco's return to consciousness was postponed once again, and Harry would remain stoically poised by Draco's side. This new routine would sustain the trio for a week and a half before Harry finally exploded. As Madame Pompfrey returned once again, she found Harry out of his normal spot and pacing frantically to and fro. He looked up when she came in.

"It's been a week and a half," he said frantically. "Why hasn't he shown any improvement? He-he just hit his head, right?"

Madame Pompfrey looked down uncertainly. "I..I don't know."

Harry stared. Madame Pompfrey suddenly became very interested in her shoes. The long silence was eventually stunted by Harry.

"I'm going to talk to Ron."Without another word, he left.

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Ron was one of the few people in Hogwarts to have a solid wood door as an entrance to his apartments. The rest had portraits.

The wood made a clear ringing sound as Harry's knuckles came violently to meet it. Ron soon bounded up to the door, and Harry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his friend's appearance. The red hair was disheveled, or more so than usual, and his clothes had clearly been thrown on in a rush. The odd smudge on his nose from childhood seemed to have momentarily made its re-appearance, this time locating itself dead smack in the middle of Ron's nose. On top of all this, he was breathing rapidly. It didn't take too many observational skills to know what Ron had just been doing.

"Ron, hi," Harry said simply.

Ron cleared his throat. "'Ello."

Silence filled the air until Harry seemed to shake himself from his reverie. "Did you notice anything about Draco when you found him?"

Ron thought. It looked hard. "Uhm..yea, I guess. There was this shadow. I barely even saw it, though. It disappeared the second I saw it."

Harry stared. {He seemed to be doing that quite a lot lately.}

"No way.""Way."And then Harry was gone.


	15. Hell

Draco woke up.

He really didn't want to, he realized a second later. The sun was hot, and beat down on him unmercifully. He was sitting on a rock that was warmer than the sun, and it burned his back miserably. He didn't dare open his eyes. "Hello?" He croaked. "Where am I?"

"Hell."

Well, that had him sitting up quickly. He knew that voice, that slithering, oozing voice. Voldemort.

Then there were crunching sounds, as though someone were walking shorter. "Yes, it's me." Draco stiffened. Could Voldemort read his mind? "Yes, I can." A tiny crease appeared between Draco's eyebrows. He was obviously trying not to think. Voldemort placed a finger on Draco's forehead, but Draco couldn't pull away from that creepily cool finger. Then images were flashing through Draco's mind. They couldn't be suppressed, and they were entirely unbidden. He saw flashes of him and Harry. Them in bed, them eating cookies. Harry pulling on Draco's hair. Draco reading, with Harry's head resting in his lap. Draco could practically feel Voldemort smile. "Ah..Getting close to Potter, Draco? You always were a frisky one." Draco glared. There was a lapse of silence, before a new voice spoke. "Voldemort, leave him be." It was Harry. It had to be. But how did he get here? And why did he come?

Voldemort's voice was hard when he spoke to Harry. Draco could feel the hate radiating off him in waves of heat. "Potter. I knew you'd come." "Of course I would. Now, leave him be. He doesn't belong here." Harry took in Draco's appearance in one glance, and saw that the blonde wasn't doing well. Sunburn was already showing itself in welts running down Draco's bare back and arms, and his eyes looked out of focus and confused. When Voldemort did nothing, Harry turned his back on the two and raised his arms to the sky. He repeated himself, bellowing "He doesn't belong here!" to the world.

With a pop Draco found himself somewhere else. He could still see Harry and Voldemort, but now he was surrounded by cool, white walls, and a smooth bench had taken the place of the smoldering rock. Harry and Voldemort were still acting like they were in the desert, however, as he watched Harry's skin darkened a shade and started to turn a little red. Harry was no longer looking at him, he was looking at Voldemort. "Why'd you bring him here? Did you just want me?"Voldemort nodded. "Well, you have me. Let him go home."Voldemort chuckled. "Oh, no, my dear boy. I'd much rather have him here for this. It'd be so much more interesting with an audience."

Harry winced. "That's..done with." He pulled wand out, and Voldemort's eyes grew large.

"Where'd you get that? There aren't any wands here…"

Harry smiled. "We'll be going home now. Bye, Voldie."

Harry pointed his wand at Draco. "Trans corpus!" Harry must've done the same to himself shortly after, but Draco would never know. He'd been wrenched away from his spot on the bench, and found himself seconds later laying on the snow in front of Hogwarts. Harry appeared also. "Harry, what was that?""That was a long story. One that isn't over yet.""What?"

Harry looked at him, his eyes hard. Draco caught his breath as he saw a little green sparkling in their depths. "He'll call me back, soon. I have to beat him again. I just bought us a little time."

Draco sighed and nodded dejectedly. "He's a persistent bastard." Harry chuckled. Their laughter rang out into the crisp cool air.


	16. Discovery

Back inside the castle, a search party had been launched shortly after Ron awoke from his nap and remembered that Harry had disappeared. They discussed at great length before deciding that the staff would divide into groups of two and spread out through the castle. That was how Severus and Hermione found themselves meandering down the hallways, bored. Both were silent, neither of them had much to say. Hermione was focusing on how chilly it was in the castle: the only source about her was Snape's arm twined about her waist. Snape was reflecting on the new plumpness of Hermione's waist. She hadn't been pregnant long at all, yet it was already showing. Snape didn't mind one bit.

Just as the duo turned a corner, Snape pricked up. His sharp, dark eyes picked up a pair of figures on the grounds in front of the castle. Harry and Draco had finally been found. "Look, there!"

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Outside on the grounds, Harry was helping Draco up. He'd finally finished when Draco hunched over as if punched in the stomach. "Hump! I feel a..tug.."

Harry looked at him oddly. "A tug?" he repeated with a great deal of doubt lacing his voice. He watched as Draco staggered backwards. It looked as though someone had tied a string about his midsection and was yanking it backwards. Harry followed in Draco's footsteps for a little while until the man lost his footing and fell onto his rear. The tugging continued, and Draco winced as he felt snow get into his clothes. He hated that feeling very, very much.

This continued up the steps, through the great hall, and through many hallways until the boys came to the hospital wing. There Draco was shocked to see his actual body laying on the bed, but only got to see it for a moment before he was pulled into it with a slight slurping sound. He sat up again, feeling exactly the same as before, and looked up to see Harry looking right back at him with two different colored eyes. Draco looked right at Harry's left eye, and his memories were drawn back to school times. Harry, laughing with his friends in the great hall. Harry looking at him with hatred sparking in his lovely eyes. Harry defeating the dark lord, and looking straight at Draco as the green fog enveloped him. The last was a look of compassion. Draco blinked back to reality to find Harry still looking at him thoughtfully. The green eye stayed, and a little of Harry's old personality shined through the husk.

Draco smiled.

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Things slipped back to normal. Everybody made a point not to ask Draco and Harry what had happened. Most were too afraid.

Something occurred to Draco as he and Harry curled up on the couch for a little light reading before bed. He stroked Harry's bleached hair softly and watched as the firelight shone off of it in a blaze of red.

And then something clicked in his mind: Sun!

Harry's hair was sun bleached. His skin was darkened by the sun. Hell had been sunny. Harry had known the place like the back of his hand, and, unlike Draco, his whole body had been there instead of his inner self.

Harry had been in Hell. Probably since he'd first disappeared, years ago. It was the only explanation, and it fit as snugly as Draco's newest pair of dragon hide boots did. Draco tightened his grip on Harry slightly. "Is he coming back?"

Harry stirred slightly, and muttered "Who?" in a sleepy tone.

"Voldemort. Will he…come back?"

His companion was a little more awake now. He started to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "No," he said. "I don't think he will. He can't. The dead can't cross the bridge between the worlds."

"So..you never died. You could come back?"

Harry nodded. "I just didn't know how. It took me all those years to figure out how. Without a wand. It was tough."

Draco nodded thoughtfully, and turned back to his book ("An Idiot's Guide to Handling a Misfit As a Lover") without a word. The two lapsed into a companionable silence that lasted while Draco finished his book, and while they got dressed for bed. It spanned until they slipped under the covers and Harry scooted over to Draco and curled up under his arm with his head on his lover's chest. He felt the rumblings of Draco's voice reverberating through the man's body when he spoke. "Love 'ya."

Harry smiled. "Ditto."

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A/N: Ok, I'm uber sorry. Mega sorry. I'm sorry for the long wait and for the rather crappy chapter. I promise to have another up before the weekend is done, hopefully by the end of tonight, even. Maybe. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it!


	17. Eavesdropping, Eating and Tobias Snape

"His eye's come back."

"Only one?"

"Yes, professor."

Silence fell. Draco stalked back and forth in front of a grand portrait of Albus Dumbledore, tapping his lips with his finger thoughtfully.

"So, you tell me that you were in Hell."

"Yes."

"And he was in Hell."

"Yes, and so was Voldemort. And then he had his wand, and he said 'Trans Corpus', and I got sent back. Then he came, too, and..well, yea."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Do you know what Hell he was referring to?" Draco looked at him blankly. He sighed. "Lots of civilizations have different views of the afterlife. What kind was this?"Draco thought about it. "I..I think it was a separate world. Like…a new dimension, or something."

Dumbledore sat up taller. "A new dimension?" Draco nodded. Dumbledore's brows creased in thought. "Well. Well, well, well."

"Well?" Draco prompted.

"Perhaps Voldemort didn't die," Albus said wearily. "Harry's going to have to kill him again."

Draco nodded. "Yes, I think he said something like that."

Dumbledore rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Poor, poor boy. Such a hard life…But you do need to do something. You need to tell the world he's back."

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Harry stretched and yawned luxuriously. He was warm, and oh so comfortable in this fluffy green bed. Rubbing his eyes blearily, he realize he could only see that the bed was green, not anything else. Sighing, he felt around for his glasses, and slid them onto his face.

He felt…different. More concise. More present, even. Before it felt like he'd been covered by something, stifled. Now he was beginning to feel back to normal. Sort of, at least. Not everything was normal. He was still sad. He'd kept up a good façade, but the fact remained that he'd been treated ill. The mental repercussions would remain forever.

He swore he'd never tell anyone what Voldemort had done to him in that awful place. Here, on Earth, he could pretend it hadn't happened. He could go about a normal life, do normal things, and not be the bloody 'Boy Who Lived'. He could have a normal boyfriend…who was currently missing. Harry blinked confusedly as this information settled on him.

All that was left of Draco was an imprint on the bend besides him.

Sighing, Harry got up. He slid on the jeans that he still refused to give up but pulled on a black semi-wizard looking shirt in compromise.

He scrubbed his face clean, washed his hair in the sink, and charmed his mouth clean. Then he slid on his shoes slowly. He didn't want to go out there and face everyone.

They'd all see his newly returned eye, fawn over him, and probably many of the students would begin putting two and two together. This would make him "The Man That Lived Again", which would irk him to no end. Sighing once again, he attempted to conceal his eye with a spell, only to see no visible difference. Perfect.

Harry stalked out Draco's rooms quietly and set off to locate some sort of food. He'd go down to the kitchen and beg some off of the house elves. That way he wouldn't have to see any humans, which was a good thing.

Turning a corner, Harry heard voices up ahead. They sounded very familiar. With a jolt, he realized one was Dumbledore, apparently risen from the dead. The other was clearly Draco. "But you just said it, he's had such a hard life! Do we really need to tell them it's him?" Draco's voice was saying in a pleading tone. Dumbledore murmured something incoherently, but it seemed to be an affirmative. More things were said, but Harry only picked up: "Don't you think they'd harass him? Ask him about where he's been, and if Voldemort was involved?"

"I don't know," Dumbledore said. Harry snorted. He used to think that man had all the answers.

But Harry had had enough of eavesdropping on this particular conversation. Silently he snuck back and took another route to the portrait of the pair, tickled it, and crawled in to the jubilant cheers of the house elves.

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No one can say that the house elves didn't show every single courtesy possible to Harry. He had everything he wanted, sometimes before he even asked for it. They took great joy in caring for their savior.

But the house elves' smiling faces and courteous bows and curtsies did little to sooth the overheard conversation from his mind. Of course Draco and his old professor were probably talking about the press, but what if they weren't? Harry slipped into a thoughtful reverie while he devoured plate after plate, all heaped high with food.

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Tobias Snape played very little role in anyone's life at Hogwarts. Aside from Harriet and Joanna, that is. He meant quite a lot to those two.

He was not, unfortunately for him, Severus Snape's son. It was a common misconception that everyone believed in aside from Harriet and Joanna, the only two he dared confide anything in at all, and Hermione, Severus' wife. It was easy to see why everyone thought that he and Snape were related: first off, they shared the surname 'Snape', and Tobias was a spitting image of Severus in his youth. Sure, maybe his eyes were a bit lighter and more of a bluish color, and his hair wasn't always greasy, and in summertime he spent copious amounts of time outside so even in winter he wasn't the same pale, translucent color, but the fact of the matter remained: Tobias looked quite a lot like Severus.

The family connection between them was something both worked hard to keep up. So hard, in fact, that even those closest to Severus didn't know the real truth, aside from his own wife.

You see, Tobias wasn't Severus' son, but his nephew.

Callista Snape had birthed Tobias in her youth. She'd barely even been sixteen when she awkwardly told her parents that she was pregnant. Of course their father had went and gotten drunk. The only thing that stopped him from beating his daughter was that she'd managed to pick a rich young man with pure blood to procreate with, therefore ensuring the proud Snape line for at least another generation.

The problem was that the wizard who fathered Callista's child hadn't been pure blood. He'd been a half blood who wanted to be pureblood really badly. No one really knew that, though.

So Tobias had been born a healthy little baby, but his mother died in child birth.

None of the Snapes really wanted to take care of him. Severus did anyways. Callista had been a great deal younger than him, and by the time Tobias had been born he'd already been in the middle of his whole spy shindig. It hadn't stopped him from caring for Tobias.

So, now that Tobias was in school and rather dependant, not to mention in Gryffindor, he and Severus had begun drifting apart. It really hadn't phased either of them. They both had their own circles to fall back on.

Tobias' own circle was much like the Golden Trio in many ways. They were all in Gryffindor, they had a ratio of two sexes to one, and they were as tight knit a group you could ever find. Harriet, a spawn of George Weasley and a beautiful, powerful young witch he'd met at a bar one night, was the mastermind and the cunning plot devisor, but she was horribly clumsy and had trouble controlling her power. She was the apple of her father's eye and the blight of her mother's worry-free conscious. Joanna Longbottom had inherited her father's fascination with plants, but it had spread to all subjects. Much to everyone's surprise, Joanna had grown quite smart. She'd never reach Hermione's level, but she'd improved enough to make even the sanest person rethink human genetics.

And for Tobias…well, Tobias is a multifaceted lad. He had many layers to his being. He was a perfect combination of his father, the Dark Lord, and his mother, the lovely, sweet-hearted Callista. On the outside he was one of the most gentle, caring children one could come across, but on the inside he inherited his father's dark nature. Unlike his father, though, he fought it with every ounce of his being. He didn't want to be bad. If he harmed another, he'd probably harm himself after in a flash of grief.

But Tobias Snape never knew who his father was. The only father-figure he knew of was Severus, a good, steady fellow. Tobias ought to grow up like Severus. If he did, everything would be fine. The problem lies in his differences from Severus, not in his likenesses.

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A/N: Here's another chapter!

As it turns out, I was reviewing some of the earlier chapters and I saw that I said Draco thought Snape had a son.

Hence, Tobias makes a return from the land of inconsistencies. And, since he's back, I'll probably work him into the plot somehow.

Anywho, hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for the reviews!


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